By the time Glacia headed to the bathhouse.
Si-woo was on his way to the place where she resided in order to strategize for the gate conquest.
“Since it’s where the boss stays, there must be something useful, right?”
Fortunately, he had plenty of time.
Even without water or food, a Hunter’s body could endure for several days, and as long as Glacia remained under his allure, the gate wouldn’t be overflowing with monsters.
If any issue arose, it would be due to Glacia’s rampage—since she had yet to fully regain her sanity.
That would happen the moment she realized that Si-woo wasn’t actually the hero.
‘Glacia is overlaying the image of the hero onto me.’
Glacia was captivated by Si-woo’s allure, but she didn’t love him.
The one she loved was a fictional being.
Because she projected the figure of the “hero” onto Si-woo, the effect of his allure was weaker on her compared to others.
No matter how formidable the monster or Hunter, if they completely succumbed to Si-woo’s allure, it would be game over.
With enough time and effort, they would even accept an order to take their own life.
‘It’d be better if they at least had a firm ideal type.’
The image of the ideal partner that women desired.
Si-woo had the ability to distort even the most steadfast standards for choosing a mate.
However, if Si-woo was simply being projected onto an already completed standard.
If someone recognized a completely different person, with a different name, personality, and preferences, as Si-woo and fell in love with that illusion—there was no way to handle that situation.
‘Even a single misplaced word could trigger a rampage.’
Of course, he knew this from experience.
There had been people who projected characters from manga or novels onto him.
It was because of such people that he even started learning how to act.
If he showed even the slightest trait that deviated from the imagined character, they would reveal expressions that bordered on hatred.
“Not as high up as I expected.”
Arriving at the top floor, Si-woo pushed open the door that seemed to lead to Glacia’s room.
“The room’s more ordinary than I thought.”
Just like the castle’s structure, Glacia’s room was made of ice, yet its interior was unexpectedly plain.
So plain, in fact, that it felt strangely out of place.
Considering her manner of speech and the overwhelming atmosphere she exuded, Glacia reminded him of a medieval noble, so he had expected the room to be filled with lavish ornaments and antique furniture.
‘At this rate, there’s even less furniture here than in the house I used to live in.’
Despite the vast size of the room, it looked barren apart from a bed and a desk.
“Well, maybe she just doesn’t care for unnecessary decorations in her room.”
More importantly, he needed to find some clues first.
As he carefully began searching Glacia’s room, Si-woo made sure not to leave any traces behind.
Though she was a monster, Glacia was hardly different from a human.
If she had managed to suppress her madness to the point of regaining reason and being able to hold logical conversations, then she might also be capable of sensing even the slightest disturbance in her space.
He couldn’t allow her to even entertain the thought that he might be the culprit.
Glacia’s idea of what a “hero” was supposed to be—Si-woo wasn’t entirely sure.
But at the very least, he was certain that such a person wouldn’t be the type to rummage through a woman’s room without permission.
As he carefully searched the room, his senses suddenly picked up on something.
A faint trace of mana was emanating from a small drawer in the desk, drawing his hand toward it.
“This is…”
Inside the drawer was a single book.
The letters engraved on its cover resembled those found on skill books.
However, the mana it exuded was far weaker—nothing compared to an actual skill book.
Still, if it could serve as a clue, it was worth looking into.
With that thought in mind, Si-woo picked up the book.
And found himself opening someone’s diary.
<December 31, Year 471 of the Royal Calendar>
<Today, Father trained me in swordsmanship.>
<Unlike usual, he was unusually strict, which was a little frightening. But every time I got hurt, he would return to his usual gentle self, which reassured me a bit. He said it was something necessary for the future.>
<One day, I must inherit the family’s legacy.>
<Can I really do it?>
The diary was written in an unfamiliar language.
Yet, Si-woo could understand it.
As if it were the most natural thing in the world, he read through the words, despite never having learned the language before.
<March 18, Year 472 of the Royal Calendar>
<As usual, I trained with Father.>
<But lately, Mother’s health has been getting worse. Because of that, our training sessions have become shorter, and Father has been spending more time outside, searching for medicine for her. While I’m happy that training has been cut down, it pains me to see Mother and Father struggling.>
<May 11, Year 472 of the Royal Calendar>
<Mother’s condition has worsened significantly.>
<In the end, Father left the territory to find a way to save her. He told me that, for the time being, I must fulfill my duties as the temporary head of the household.>
<But I don’t think I can do it.>
<I have the knowledge that Father taught me, but I can’t even imagine myself ruling over the land. I just hope Father comes back as soon as possible.>
The entries were written sporadically, spaced apart by months at a time.
It seemed the writer only recorded their thoughts when they felt like it.
Even so, the content was simple.
Day by day, the mother’s condition worsened.
And before long, incidents began to unfold within the territory.
Solving one problem would only bring forth two or three new ones.
The writer’s mind was clearly deteriorating, burdened by an unrelenting cycle of hardship.
<November 21, Year 477 of the Royal Calendar>
<The territory is in ruins, and many of the people have abandoned it, but just knowing that he’s back brings me relief.>
<Mother’s condition has worsened to the point where she is nothing but skin and bones, yet she still clings to life.>
<More than anything, I am simply overjoyed to finally put down the crushing weight of being the head of the household.>
Hope visited her for a brief moment.
But it was just that—brief.
<November 22, Year 477 of the Royal Calendar>
<Desperate to save Mother, Father summoned a demon, believing it was the only way to bring her back.>
<And the summoning was a success—the demon appeared.>
<The idea that demons fulfill human desires in exchange for souls, lifespans, or even life after death — That was nothing more than a lie. A deception to turn people into their playthings.>
<After savoring Father’s look of despair and stealing Mother’s life, the demon…>
<Branded me with an unremovable curse, leaving a wound that will never heal.>
The diary went blank after that.
There was no need to ask why.
<March 15, Year 498 of the Royal Calendar>
<Sealing the curse the demon had placed on me, the magician said this:>
<One day, a hero will come to save you.>
<For ten years, I had given up on the idea of salvation. But those words… they were the only hope I had left.>
<So, I decided—I will wait for the hero.>
<Perhaps it was after the kingdom had fallen. Considering we were at war with the empire, it wouldn’t be surprising.>
<Though my curse had been sealed, the kingdom’s army captured me, branding me a witch and dragging me to the capital for execution.>
<But it was fine. Because that magician told me—someday, my hero would come for me.>
“The hero… huh.”
Was this where it all began?
Glacia’s desperate search for the hero.
It all began here.
<April 1, Year 931 of the Imperial Calendar>
<During the chaos, I—who was meant to be executed—was instead unexpectedly released as a slave.>
<Abandoned, I was soon picked up as an experimental subject by a noble family of magicians.>
<I never learned the name of the noble who took me, but I did hear the family name.>
“…Kidnapped?”
Glacia’s full name was Glacia von Drake.
Then… was the owner of this diary someone else?
She wasn’t “rescued.” She was taken as a mere test subject.
By Si-woo’s standards, it was unthinkable for a noble to grant their family name to something as lowly as an experimental subject—something even lower than a slave.
And yet, those people had done exactly that.
Something beyond his comprehension.
<April 10, Year 931 of the Imperial Calendar>
<After being dragged to the Drake Count’s estate, I was told the purpose of their experiments.>
<But under imperial law, even slaves were granted a bare minimum of human rights.>
<And so, the people of the Drake family found a loophole.>
<Apparently, noble families that owned slaves were subject to inspections by imperial auditors, who ensured they treated their slaves “humanely.” But by adopting me as a child instead of keeping me as a slave, they could completely bypass such inspections.>
<When I asked why they didn’t just lock me in a basement and conduct their experiments in secret, Count Drake merely sneered at me.>
<He said that once they perfected their magic, they intended to parade me around as a trophy.>
<In response, I was ordered to go without food for the day.>
<I’m scared.>
Si-woo could read no further.
The diary continued, the magic translating its words still active.
And yet, the text was no longer human writing.
<Hurts, dying, want to… live…>
<Today, arm… lost… cut off… regenerating… pus…>
With each turn of the page, the letters grew more distorted.
Dark bloodstains and sickly yellow blotches—likely pus—covered the pages, further revealing just how horrific the experiments at the Drake estate had been.
Si-woo kept turning the pages.
Past the illegible scrawls, past the blood and rot.
Until he reached the final page.
<I don’t know the date.>
Glacia had written her last words.
<Blinded by their greed to control demons, those foolish nobles succeeded in summoning not one, but four demons.>
<But just like my father and mother, they ultimately failed.>
<In fact, their fate may have been far worse than my parents’.>
<Because unlike my parents, who at least had the mercy of death… their very souls were corrupted by the demons, twisted beyond salvation.>
<Unlike me, who was utterly broken, they were turned into monsters while still retaining a faint trace of reason.>
<Ah… even now, I can hear their voices begging to be killed.>
<When I begged them the same, they ignored me. Serves them right.>
<Well… not that I’ll be much different soon enough.>
<The magician’s seal was broken when they summoned the demons.>
<This will be my will—my bucket list.>
<When I turn into a monster, I’ll lose my memories again.>
<So, I’m writing this down, hoping that whoever I become will fulfill the dreams I once had.>
<Maybe it’ll be me who finds this diary. Maybe it’ll be the hero. Or maybe… it’ll be someone I don’t even know.>
<I just hope it’s not the third option.>
<And if, by any chance, the one who finds this is Glacia—who has lost her memories—or the hero…>
<Please. No, I beg of you. Make my dream come true.>
<Even if it’s not me who gets to live it out.>
Si-woo read through Glacia’s bucket list.
Each wish was simple.
So simple that, had she lived an ordinary life, she wouldn’t have needed to write them down at all.
“If this is all she wanted, it won’t be difficult.”
Closing the diary, Si-woo made up his mind.
He had read her story without permission.
So he would pay the price.
By making her dream come true.